


The Elf Trap

by laurpas



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mild Angst, Pranks, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26346067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurpas/pseuds/laurpas
Summary: Solas and Lavellan are broken up for good this time... Unless their companions have anything to say about it.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan/Solas
Comments: 7
Kudos: 41





	The Elf Trap

**Author's Note:**

> From the kinkmeme: https://dragonage-kink.dreamwidth.org/93509.html?thread=365455429   
> I didn't get quite get everything but I hope this is still enjoyable!
> 
> As the rest of my ao3 can attest, I have never written Solavellan and rarely write from Inquisition so please have mercy on my eternal soul (or don't, I respond surprisingly well to scathing critique.) But I thought this prompt was really cute and thought this would be a nice foray back into writing for the fandom.
> 
> Please enjoy!

“ _Ir abelas, ma vhenan_ ,” he whispered, one hand laying against her cheek, “But I know that this is not right, no matter how tempting it may be. You would be better off with another.” The very thought of it tore at his heart but this was necessary, for her as well as for his own conscience. 

“Don’t I have a right to decide that for myself?” She replied, her voice rough with both grief and exhaustion. This wasn’t the first time they had had this conversation and she feared how many more times they would repeat this. She’d tried to move on before, more than once. But it was like being given the taste of a ripe mango, all bright syrupy sweetness, and then trying to content oneself with the mealyness of an old pear for the rest of one's life. 

“There’s still so much you don’t understand.” He was never more tempted than in these moments to just reveal everything to her. But he was no fool, he knew what would come of it. It was better that she never knew the truth. 

“Then explain it to me!” She yelled, shoving herself away from him. “Or do you think me so stupid that I couldn’t possibly comprehend whatever ridiculous reason you have for doing this to me, over and over again?”

“Of course not, please, _ma vhenan_ -” he held his hands to her in supplication, willing her to trust him, though he had no right to expect it. Before he could finish however, she interrupted him.

“Oh shove it!” She growled, loudly enough that several people in the library above them stuck their heads over the railing to look down at the squabbling pair with morbid curiosity. From somewhere further in came a haughty, cultured voice yelling, “Back to work everyone! They’ll repeat this by next week, no need to linger.”

Neva Lavellan felt heat rise in her cheeks and glared first at the apprentices still ogling them and then at Solas. “You,” she said, pointing a finger at him and waiting for some brilliant, scathing remark to come to her lips. When none did she growled again, jabbing her finger into air, “ _ You _ ,” she repeated before spinning on her heel and stalking away.

The sound of the door slamming open and then closed echoed through the room, seeming to resound within the emptiness inside of Solas. It was followed by the unmistakable noise of feet quickly shuffling away, the apprentices no doubt fearing his wrath. Or, more likely, Dorians.

Glumly he thought back to the days when he could have made a whole pack of students scurry away with just a look. Long behind him, he thought. 

Sighing he moved back to his desk, settling down into his chair and resting his head in his hands. He tried to find comfort by reminding himself that he had done the right thing. He was so tired of lying to the woman he loved, of hurting her deeper and deeper, even if she didn’t realize it. This would be easier in the end, even if she couldn’t know that now.

Above him, from the second floor of the rotunda, Dorian peeked his head out and studied the man below him. Sighing quietly he shook his head only to turn slightly and look upwards where Leliana was  _ also  _ looking out over the railing.

‘We have to do something’ he mouthed. Normally the pair shouted to each other if they needed anything, or Leliana made one of her ravens hop on down, but he didn’t want Solas catching wind of their plans. Not that they had any, of course, but they were both smart, capable people and Dorian believed in them. 

She frowned for a moment, tapping at her chin in thought before nodding and disappearing above him again. If Dorian could tell anything from the light that had suddenly appeared in her eyes it was that this was going to be  _ very  _ good.

***

There were many people that Lavellan could go to when Solas inevitably broke her heart. Or when some foppish noble made an offensive comment towards her, making her feel both too seen and also not seen at all. Or when she failed to help those who depended on her, or Cullen reported to her in a dull voice the most recent casualties of one of their missions. 

The point was not that being the Inquisitor was by turns depressing, insulting, infuriating and, once again, depressing. The  _ point  _ was that she had people she could rely on. Maybe not Solas, but there were plenty of others. And the first name that usually came to mind happened to be right in front of her, beating a dummy half to death with her sword.

“Cassandra,” Neva said, voice morose. The woman appeared not to hear her because with a grunt she brought her sword down against the dummy again, more straw falling out. “Cassandra!”

Cassandra wrenched herself back, breathing heavily and letting her sword drop to the ground. 

“Herald!” She replied, still catching her breath, “What can I help you with?”

Neva opened her mouth and to her horror found she could barely get anything out around the lump in her throat. Cassandra must have seen the expression on her face because she quickly moved towards her, arms out, before stopping right before the slightly trembling elf.

“Solas?” She asked, her expression grim.

Neva nodded, mentally patting herself on the back when she resisted the urge to sniffle. She knew that Cassandra wouldn’t judge her, but she couldn’t bear for anyone to see her fall apart in public.

“To my office then,” Cassandra said with characteristic decisiveness. “Dorian left one of his bottles of wine behind and I can’t quite bring myself to finish it.”

Neva nodded again and, wordlessly, followed the Seeker back to the little room that she had marked as hers. It was a little dark for Lavellan’s taste but it was neatly organized and the fire burning in the hearth gave her some semblance of cheer.

“When was Dorian here?” She asked, seeing the aforementioned bottle on Cassandra’s desk. “Did he do something?”

Cassandra looked at her in confusion for a moment before her face cleared. “No, he was here because…” She cleared her throat and then continued, “Well, we have a common interest in certain types of literature. We were discussing a novel that we had both recently finished.”

“Oh,” Neva said, dropping into a chair and immediately reaching for the bottle, not bothering to ask for a glass. “Something about magic or history I suppose. I know you were working on documenting some of the Inquisition’s exploits.”

A self deprecating expression crossed Cassandra’s face and, struggling to contain her smile, she said, “Well, the novel certainly was magical in some regards.” Her smile disappeared as she watched her friend uncork the bottle then gracelessly chug about a quarter of what was left.

“So,” Cassandra said when Neva had lowered the bottle, “I take it Solas has broken your heart once again?”

Neva shot her a glare but a second later her face crumpled and she found herself staring down at the bottle again. “Yes. You know how it goes- He’s so certain we can’t be together, that he’s no good for me, all of that- That- Bullshit.” She took another swig and then continued, “I just don’t understand. There’s plenty that we’ve argued about- The Dalish, magic, politics, all of that sort- But there’s a part of him that always seemed to  _ enjoy  _ our fights. He loves a challenge, he’s so smart and-”

She swallowed back the rest of her words and blinked rapidly in a vain attempt to keep her tears at bay. “I just don’t  _ understand  _ Cassandra. His passion seems so genuine, and if I thought he were playing me for his own uses… Well, this back and forth just doesn’t make sense. Either he would have simply remained my friend, or he would have become my lover in truth and stayed that way. What he’s doing now, it certainly doesn’t endear him to me.”

_ Nor to me _ , Cassandra thought with a frown. This wasn’t the first time she’d had this conversation with Lavellan and it always pulled at her heart to see her friend in such distress. 

“Give him some time,” Cassandra said, though she didn’t sound very enthusiastic, “He has reneged on his promises before, I suspect he will do so again.”  _ Maker _ , she thought, if there was just some way to just get Solas’ head out of his ass, things could be so much simpler and happier between him and the other elf. They truly seemed to have chemistry and she had never understood why he seemed so eager to deny himself what he clearly wanted.

“Oh I know,” Neva said with a humorless chuckle, “And then he’ll get all worried without my permission and we’ll repeat this again.”

“Then I will make sure to steal more wine from Dorian, you’re lucky my office was stocked.” She offered the herald a small smile and was pleased when she returned it.

“Thanks, but if you can manage it I prefer whiskey. Maybe goad Blackwall into betting some on a match at the training ring? He strikes me as an easy mark.”

Cassandra laughed and shook her head, “That seems… Unkind. But I will consider it.”

“Thanks,” Neva said, and then wasn’t sure what else to say. But that was the wonderful thing about the Seeker- She didn’t much mind that Lavellan continued to sit there, drinking and staring into the fire. What the inquisitor didn’t know, however, was that it was partly because Cassandra had already begun her own plotting.

***

“Bull,” Cassandra said a few nights later as she approached the mercenary who was busy drinking and lounging in The Herald’s Rest. “I am sure you have heard the news?”

“Yes,” Bull replied, not having a single idea of what Cassandra was referring to. Sometimes he did this to avoid looking like he was out of the loop and sometimes he did it to see if he could figure out what the other person was talking about before the jig was up.

“Good,” Cassandra said, settling heavily in a seat next to him, “Normally I would not interfere in these kinds of matters, but this has gone on for long enough. We must do something about this.”

Hm, so probably nothing to do with magic or templars. Nor anything to do with the security of Skyhold. Was it a personal matter maybe? 

“I couldn’t agree more,” He said, “Though I am a little surprised you came to me about this.” It was a bit of a gamble, but it was a risk he was willing to take.

“I know,” she nodded, “You never did strike me much as the…  _ Romantic  _ type. But I still think your knowledge could be useful.”

Well, now wasn’t that intriguing. He resisted the urge to shift in his seat, forcing himself to remain casual. “So… You’ve reconsidered what you said before? About me helping you work out your frustrations?” 

“What-” she snorted and playfully smacked him on the arm. “ _ No _ . I am certainly not here for myself. I came here on behalf of Lavellan.  _ Obviously _ .”

“Obviously,” Bull replied, still smirking a little. “What, are you trying to get her and Solas back together?”

“Yes. Or, at least get Solas to reconsider. But while I am not completely ignorant in these… endeavors, you seem to have much more experience.”

“Experience that I would be more than happy to share with you,” Bull said with a waggle of his eyebrows. He was saved from more of Cassandra’s fake wrath by the arrival of Dorian, however.

“Oh goody,” he said, clapping his hands together, “You’ve both done the difficult work of already gathering yourselves together for me. Can I assume that we’re all busy working towards the same goal?”

“Getting the Seeker into bed? I didn’t think you swung that way, Dorian,” Bull asked with fake surprise. 

Dorian frowned at him, rolling his eyes before settling next to Cassandra and pulling out a bottle of wine from… Somewhere in his robes. Bull assumed hiding it involved magic.

“About our dear Lavellan and Solas,  _ obviously _ .” Next came two silver goblets which he filled with wine. He handed one cup to Cassandra who gracefully took it and then kept the other for himself. Bull wondered just how much he was carrying around with him. Was there an entire set of utensils in there too? Plates, napkins? A bedroll?

He was distracted from these thoughts when Dorian spoke again, “Clearly, these two need a little outside help. Now, I for one think a little wine and some good food could be all that’s needed in this situation. I mean, have you  _ ever  _ seen Solas sip anything stronger than tea?”

“No, although I generally avoid that part of the rotunda,” Cassandra replied. “I am very much doing this for Lavellan’s sake.”

Bull tried to snake his hand around Cassandra to get to the bottle of wine but was intercepted by Dorian pulling the bottle back, closer to him. Grumbling the mercenary turned back to his beer. “That’s not a half-bad idea, but you run the risk of them blaming anything that happens on the drink. What about pretending that Lavellan has been kidnapped and setting up an elaborate scenario where Solas has to rescue her?”

It was a sign of their desperation that Cassandra and Dorian seemed to seriously be considering the proposition.

“That… Would require a lot of Inquisition resources. Resources we truly can’t spare,” Cassandra murmured, though regretfully. “In the third Swords and Shields book there is this one scene where the heroine almost drowns and the hero has to jump into the water and rescue her. Does anyone know if Neva can swim? Maybe if we give her a gentle nudge into one of the lakes around here-”

“Nah, don’t think she can,” came a voice from above, causing all three of the conspirators to jump, “Not that yer idea ain’t still stupid.”

All three turned to stare at Sera who was currently hanging upside down, locked onto the bannister with one foot, arms crossed in front of her chest with her a severe frown on her face. “Heard you lot talkin’ and wanted to know what was up. And what do I find? You’re being meddlin’ shits.” Her eyes narrowed into angry slits as she continued. “I say, let them stay broken up. He’s no good for her any way, fillin’ her head with all these stupid ideas about elven glory or whatever.” 

“Hello to you too Sera,” Dorian said mildly, “And while yes, I may not care much for Solas personally I do care a great deal for Lavellan, and would like to help her.”

“You’d do a better job just leavin’ her alone.” Frowning she turned her attention from Cassandra and then to Bull. “And I thought at least you two would have some shame about all this.”

Cassandra frowned, while next to her Bull gave a noncommittal shrug, “This may not be the most honorable way to go about things, but in this case I do not think Solas will simply be convinced of the right path. He must be… Persuaded onto it. And I do not believe that Lavellan has another heart wrenching speech in her. Not yet anyway.”

“Yeah,” Bull said, “I think it’s time we shoulder some of the burden. Plus, if it fails, it’s going to be funny as shit.”

Cassandra and Dorian glared at him while Sera laughed. “Yeah, I’m gonna have a  _ grand  _ time watching this all burst into flames.”

“If you two are quite done,” Cassandra said with a sniff, “I believe that we have some real planning to do.

***

  
  


“Stupid human nobles,” Lavellan muttered to herself as she trudged through the Fallow Mire, stinking algae and something else she really did not want to identify clinging to her boots. “Stupid human noble artifacts. I bet I could just make up something and they’d probably buy it, no need to come back to this wretched place.”

“Try complaining louder,” Bull muttered, “I bet the dead can’t quite hear you.”

Lavellan replied with a rude hand gesture and, voice half a snarl, asked, “That silent enough for you?”

“Lethallen,” Solas murmured, tone placating, “We will find this tome and then be out of here in due time.”

Lavellan briefly looked back at him and then away, refusing to respond. She had taken care to not speak to him unless absolutely necessary since their last fight. She wasn’t sure that it actually made things any better, but at least she could avoid the sharp, stabbing pain in her heart every time she argued with him or said something that made him chuckle. Creators, she loved the sound of his laugh, rare as it was.

Next to her Cassandra sighed quietly. She raised her hand in order to give Lavellan’s shoulder a comforting squeeze, an easy gesture that she had made many times before, only this time she tried to do so just as she stepped into an unexpected depression in the earth. What happened next was that Cassandra, in an effort to balance herself and avoid falling, brought herself forward with her other leg, only her arm was still outstretched and instead of patting Lavellan on the back she shoved her.

Which, while rude and mostly unwarranted, shouldn’t have been a problem. Typically. Except that Lavellan was walking on a rather narrow part of one of the land bridges that were used to navigate through the Fallow Mire, and she also happened to be wearing a bit more armor than usual, making it even easier to unbalance her.

All of which, in the end, resulted in Lavellan being thrown, yelling obscenities, into the dark, murky water below. 

For a moment everyone just stared, before suddenly breaking into a flurry of activity.

“I told you idiots she couldn’t swim!” Sera yelled in an obvious panic from the rear. Briefly she readied her bow, her instinctive response to any sort of trouble, only to realize that there was nothing she could shoot to save Lavellan.

“I know that, I wasn’t-” Cassandra began to protest.

“I thought we disagreed on this plan?” Dorian asked thoughtfully, peering out over the land bridge and into the water below where Lavellan was currently cursing and struggling in the muckish water. “In any case, I really wish we’d chosen a place with cleaner water. This robe is already ruined as it is.” He sniffed and then made a disgusted face.

“Shit Cass, not such a smart move,” The Iron Bull muttered, beginning to pull off his armor in case he needed to go after Lavellan.

“I know!” She cried in frustration and not a little bit of fear, “I obviously didn’t do  _ this  _ on purpose-”

From below them came more shouting and splashing and then, to everyone's horror, the ghoulish sound of skeletons beginning to rise out of the water. 

“Well if no one else is going to do anything,” Solas snarled before, to everyone's amazement, he dived into the water below in order to rescue Lavellan who was now torn between trying not to drown as well as fighting off skeletons and ghouls.

Above them the rest of their companions remained, watching the pair.

“You know,” Dorian said, tone thoughtful, “I don’t believe we ever discussed if Solas could swim either.”

***

“So, that was a failure,” Bull grunted as he slid into a seat just barely big enough for him in Cassandra’s office, their new unofficial base of operations.

“I was not trying-” Cassandra growled in frustration before hanging her head again. “But yes, clearly that plan was never going to work. The Fallow Mire is not the most romantic of spots.”

“Really? What’s not to love? The rotting carcasses trying to kill you or the brutish, smelly Avvar trying to kill you?” Dorian responded, even though the question had clearly been rhetorical.

“Clearly that was rhe-” Cassandra started to reply before she was interrupted by Sera.

“I say we just let ‘em be, specially now that we know that Solas can’t swim either-”

Suddenly the door burst open and all four came to a halt, turning their collective gazes to the dwarf that stood in the light of the doorway. 

“Hope I’m not interrupting,'' he said, shutting the door behind him and sauntering over to the group. “But it sounds like you four are in need of some help. Help that I happen to be in a great position to give.”

“Who told  _ him _ ?” Dorian demanded, levelling a glare at Bull only for Cassandra to sheepishly look away. “ _ You _ ? You can barely stand the dwarf! And you went to him, compromising the integrity of this entire mission!?”

“Yeah,” Varric said, “I’m only the bestselling author of several romance novels.”

“ _ In Orlais _ ,” Dorian replied snidely, even though he and Cassandra had spent several evenings drinking wine and by turns complaining about and praising the books. “And anyway, those are novels. This is real life.”

“I am well aware, Sparkler, nevertheless I think I have a thing or two to add.”

“Does it include bees? Because I think we can still do something with that-” Sera started, only to be interrupted by Dorian, who was then told by Cassandra to quiet down, only then to-

Suddenly Bull slapped both hands down on the table, creating a loud  _ boom  _ that managed to silence everyone, at least for a second. 

“Alright,” he said, “We’re going to follow whatever the next thing is that comes out of the dwarf’s mouth, because otherwise we’re just going to keep squabbling all night and get shit all done.”

“Right,” Varric said, after he found his train of thought again, “So…”

***

“This is ridiculous,” Dorian huffed as he creeped along the back wall, following Sera as they made their way to the back stockroom. Their goal was to steal Cabot’s master keyring and for whatever reason the group had decided that Dorian should assist Sera with the matter. When the mage had protested, suggesting Varric instead since he was also a rogue, the dwarf had vaguely responded that he was needed elsewhere.

Flicking a look at the bar where Varric was currently sitting, enjoying a pint and distracting one of the barmaids with some story, Dorian thought,  _ Oh yes, drinking and flirting with a pretty young thing, definitely  _ not  _ anything I would have experience with _ .

“Try to stop being so loud,” Sera grumbled in front of him and he was brought back to the task at hand for a moment. He prepared to reply and then thought better of it, deciding that an argument with her wasn’t worth it, at least for now.

Carefully the both of them snuck around a corner and, finally, found themselves in a back hallway where they could stand up. Dorian grimaced as his knees creaked in protest but Sera seemed unaffected by all of the shuffling around. 

Nor did she seem to feel any shame as she opened the door to a back stockroom and slipped in, beginning to rifle through different drawers. 

“And we’re sure that this key ring is back here?” Dorian asked as he poked at a dusty pile of books. 

“Pretty sure,” Sera replied, shoving some old aprons that were hanging up out of the way, “My beds here, and I see most of what’s what. Cabot is always heading back here when it ain't busy-”

“Hm,” Dorian said, “Well if we find any naughty books I am  _ not  _ picking them up.”

Sera cackled and said, “Not scared of demons or other magical rubbish but you are scared of naughty books? C’mon Dorian.”

“Fair point, I suppose it depends on whether these naughty books have any unidentifiable stains on them.”

“Eww-” Sera started, still laughing a little before her hands stopped on a large, brass keyring. “Ooh, look at what I found!” She pulled it off the wall, wiggling it around a little. 

“And I thought you wanted us to fail,” Dorian said with a smirk.

“Well yeah,” Sera scoffed, “Still do, but I figure, I like getting Solas’ knickers in a twist, and I don’t  _ really  _ think Lavellan is gonna fall for something this stupid, so why not play?”

“Why not, indeed,” Dorian said, snatching the key ring out of her hands. “And no one is ever smart, not when it comes to love.”

“Says you,” Sera replied, sauntering back towards the door and then peeking her head out. “Looks like Bull ‘n Cass are in position, so we can start phase two.”

“Oh, excellent,” Dorian said, “With any luck this will go  _ slightly  _ better than that business in the Fallow Mire.”

***

Lavellan leaned against the bar, quietly nursing her beer and watching the crowd around her. Bull and Cassandra had encouraged her to come down and take a night off, have a drink or two, maybe dance a little, but despite their best intentions she still felt stiff and angry. Part of it was the bruises she was still recovering from, and part of it was everything that had happened after her unfortunate swim in the Fallow Mire swamp.

She thought back to that moment, her struggling in the water while her companions argued above her. Solas, finally, had been the one to dive in, even as she had been desperately hoping for anyone else to take the plunge.

He had cursed as he had done so, Elvhen so old and so obscure that even she had had a hard time understanding him. With surprising strength he had managed to pull her upright, quieting her flailing limbs and breaking through the fog of panic wreathing her brain. 

“Hold onto me,” he had commanded and she had done so, her fingers digging into his arms as he began to drag her towards shore. Around them skeletons had begun to rise up but at least her other companions had finally begun to respond, taking out a few of the ones closest to the pair.

“Solas,” she had gasped, “I can’t swim, I can’t-”

“So I’ve realized,” he retorted.

“I hate water- It-” she was struggling not to babble, struggling not to shake or let her teeth chatter together, even though the water had completely soaked her through.

“It’s okay,” he said, turning back to her. “Look at me. Not at the ghouls, and not at the water. Focus. On. Me.”

She took another deep, shuddering breath but did as she was told. And as she stared at Solas, who had just leaped into the water to save her, she felt her heartbeat slow and her breathing become less ragged. 

“There,” he said softly, still watching her. “There you are.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. Her hands were still clamped around his arms but she couldn’t quite bring herself to let go. She told herself it was the cold, numbing her fingers and making them harder to operate. But another, smaller, more honest part of her knew that it was because there was no guarantee that he would ever hold her like this again and she couldn’t bear the thought of ending the moment so soon.

Solas seemed just as trapped, his hands still fisted at the back of her coat and the side of her hip, even though the water they stood in was now knee deep at best. And then a wraith, glowing a vivid green, appeared behind Solas and Lavellan was forced to shoot an arcane bolt at them and the moment, whatever moment they had been having, was ruined forever.

Back in the present moment, Lavellan took another sip of beer and then almost spit it out when the man she had just been thinking of appeared at the door, looking into the room with an expression of reluctant curiosity on his face. 

“What-” she started and then wondered if she would be able to jump behind the bar and hide before he caught sight of her. Solas  _ never  _ came to the tavern, which was why she had felt so safe taking the other two up on her offer. Narrowing her eyes she turned her gaze towards them, thinking about how  _ odd  _ it was that tonight, of all nights…

“Neva!” Dorian called from her side, briefly distracting her from her suspicions. “I didn’t know you were planning to come down tonight.”

“I wasn’t…” She replied, “But Bull and Cass told me that I needed some cheering up.” She snorted, though she knew that her friends had been telling her the truth. 

“Yes, well, we’ll see to that won’t we?” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and began to lead her away from the bar, as well as Solas’ line of sight. “Don’t worry, my dear, you won’t regret coming out tonight at all.”

***

“We could burn the door down,” Lavellan said, her face pushed to the side in a desperate attempt to not have her nose buried in Solas’ shoulder. She tried not to think about how good he smelled, or how familiar, but it was getting increasingly difficult as each slow, torturous minute ticked by.

“Perhaps,” Solas said, even as his hand jiggled the doorknob again, to no effect. When he had been shoved into the closet by Dorian he was sure that it had been a mistake or some kind of strange prank. Now he knew better- It had been a  _ stupid  _ prank. And the perpetrators were going to pay. ...As soon as Solas and Neva got out. “Cabot would likely be displeased.”

“Oh, screw Cabot,” she huffed, “I bet he’s in on this too. They all are.” She couldn’t believe that they had done this. It was one thing for Cassandra, or Dorian, or the others, to let her cry on their shoulders. But actively interfering in her relationship? They had gone too far. 

“Likely he is just as innocent as us in this matter,” Solas murmured and Neva gritted her teeth, willing the sound of his voice against her ear, so close and so low, to leave her unaffected. 

“At this point collateral damage seems justified,” she muttered, “Especially if it gets us out of here.”

“Ah, always so hot headed,” he said, chuckling, and Neva had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to keep from sighing. Stupid body. Stupid pretty elf. Stupid  _ everything _ .

She shifted her legs in an attempt to put some space between her and Solas only for the man to hiss and grasp her hip with a firm hand.

“Maybe,” he said, a little breathless, “We limit our movements as much as possible?”

“You would think,” she replied, trying to sound glib, “That two elves would have a little more space to spare between them.”

“Yes well, perhaps not when shoved into a tiny broom closet.” There came the sound of laughter from outside and Solas grunted in frustration. “I can barely make a fist and have enough room to hit the door, let alone move away from you.”

“How tragic for you,” Neva replied, the bitterness spilling into her voice despite her best attempts. “Have no fear, I’m sure this trial will be over soon enough.”

“That’s not-” Solas huffed moving to try and catch her eyes though she was intent on looking anywhere but at him. “You know that that is not what I meant. And this hardly seems fair to you either.”

“I think Cassandra pushed me on purpose, in the Fallow Mire,” Neva suddenly said, desperately trying to change the subject. “And who knows what else. Clearly they’ve all been plotting.”

That stopped Solas for a moment and he hummed thoughtfully. “That would explain… Some of the remarks the others made. And also why, apparently, they were waiting for me to jump in and rescue you.”

“Yes, well…” She was quiet for a moment. “Thank you for playing hero. I wasn’t lying when I said I hated water.”

“I am no hero,” Solas replied softly and was rewarded when Neva finally turned to look at him with a small smile. It was still a little awkward, given their proximity, but the room felt significantly less uncomfortable than it had before. “But I appreciate your gratitude all the same.”

There was a moment of comfortable silence between them. There might have even been a few more had Neva not opened her mouth and ruined it.

“I missed this,” she blurted out and then, as if explaining ever made these sorts of things better, said, “I miss… You. Lying against you. Laughing with you.” 

“I… Know,” he said with a sigh. “And believe me, I return your sentiments but-”

“But I don’t know what I’m getting into. You’re bad for me. You’ll only hurt me in the end. This isn’t right,” she imitated him with chilling accuracy. “Did I miss any of the usual arguments?”

He chuckled again, though there was a clear edge of pain to it. “No, I do not believe so.” This brought on another moment of silence, this time uneasy. 

“Solas…” Neva started, stopped, and then started again. “What if I told you I didn’t care?”

“About?”

“About the pain- The inevitable- Whatever it is that you’re trying so desperately to protect me from. I,” she took a deep, painful breath, “I have never felt this way about someone before. And believe me, when I tell you that I have tried to look to another. Tried to forget you, to just move on, or even just to distract myself. But I can’t. I don’t know that I will ever be able to.”

Solas was silent, both cursing the ones who had gotten him and Neva into this situation, as well as his own actions. If only he had rejected her early flirtations. If only he’d seen them for the danger they were.

“Neva…” He whispered, “Please…”

And then, suddenly, the door behind them was opening and Solas and the Inquisitor were tumbling on to the floor, limbs entangled and unspoken words lost to the chaos of the moment. 

***

Things were quiet around Skyhold for a week- Or at least, more quiet than normal. Even Sera had refrained from engaging in any pranks, deterred from the verbal lashing that Neva had unleashed upon everyone involved in Operation Sweaty Elfies, as well as a number of people who happened to merely be in the tavern but had done nothing to contribute. 

She wasn’t wrong to be mad, or so Sera thought. Usually the archer found things like this to be extremely funny, but something about the look in Neva’s eyes when the two of them had emerged from the closet… 

Sera frowned, irritated with herself, with Solas, and more generally with the world around her. She hated problems that she couldn’t solve by shooting or stabbing them. And while that was still technically an option when it came to Solas she knew that Neva would be extremely displeased with her. So, while it was very much against her nature, Sera had pulled back. She just hadn’t expected Cole to get involved.

He appeared as he often did: Suddenly, with no warning and very little awareness of the panic he caused. Sera nearly fell out of her window seat but after much cursing and threatening she managed to right herself. 

“What do you want?” She snapped, watching Cole with narrowed eyes.

“Let them be. Eyes sharp, like your arrows, always watching, always seeing… You love to play, even when others don’t… Don’t play this time. It’ll be for the better.”

She growled at him, “I’ll do what I want.”

“You saw her face, the pain, the want, it spoke to you and you tried to ignore it but you couldn’t. You want her to be happy, this will help.” Cole raised his face slightly and smiled benevolently at Sera, “We both want to help. We both can help.”

“I don’t work with you, creepy,” Sera replied with a huff. “And I won’t do something just ‘cause you tell me.” 

“Okay, Sera,” he said, the smile softening. Despite her protests he knew that she would do the right thing. Though she might have pretended otherwise at times he had seen her heart and he knew that she would do what was best for her friend.

***

A week had passed since that fateful night in the Herald’s rest and while Neva could have felt some regret about lecturing her companions she simply… Didn’t. Though she was no longer quite as angry as she had been she still felt like she had to do something to make sure they stayed out of her business, for good.

Why she felt the need to include Solas was beyond her, but though her brain was yelling at her that this was an absolutely terrible idea she couldn’t help but make the journey to his office in the rotunda. 

_ He’ll want his revenge too, it’ll be easy to rope him in,  _ she thought to herself, as if it were any sort of justification, or made any sense. Hesitating at the door she gave it a firm knock and then strode inside, trying to act confident even if she felt otherwise.

“Hahren,” she greeted, attempting to be respectful, “How are you this morning?”

Solas looked up at her, a little surprised to see her but quickly collected himself. “Well, and you?”

“Oh just fine,” she said, idly looking up to see if anyone was spying on them from the library or from the rookery. Though she saw no one she nevertheless leaned towards Solas and whispered, “Come with me to the storeroom with your paints- I need to talk to you about something privately.”

Solas raised one eyebrow, but nevertheless followed her, curious. They had barely spoken to each other since that night at the tavern, other than awkward greetings in the hallway, and he couldn’t imagine what she wanted with him.

Well, he understood what she wanted with him. She just had to believe that he would refuse to give in. He had been so close, in that moment in the closet. As embarrassing as it had been he was almost grateful for the unknowing rube who had opened the door and let them out. 

When they were safely inside the stockroom and the door was closed, this time with a fair amount of space between them, she turned to him. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she tapped her foot nervously, obviously still torn on whether to ask him for help.

“Well, it would appear that there are a few people who are far too invested in us getting back together.”

“Yes,” Solas replied with a grimace. “Though  _ why _ they felt the need to interfere…”

Neva shook her head, “They meant well, of course, but it isn’t something to be tolerated.”

“I could tell when you began yelling at all of them,” Solas replied drolly, surprising Neva into a laugh.

“I still think I was justified, or do you disagree?” But instead of being argumentative her tone was flirtatious and Solas had to exercise all of his will not to reply in kind.

“I cannot disagree with you there,” he said, clearing his throat. “In any case, you had something you wished to discuss with me?”

“Well…” She looked away suddenly, biting her bottom lip. What he wouldn’t give to kiss her then, to take her chin in his hand and... “I need your help getting back at them. Somehow. I’m not- I’m not entirely sure yet, but I think we can figure something out.”

He was startled out of his thoughts, probably for the best given where they had been headed, by her words.

“You… Want me to help you pull a prank?  _ Me _ ?”

“Yes?” She looked up at him, her dark eyes wide and beseeching, and he knew he was lost.

Sighing he nodded, and, begrudgingly said, “Alright, where do we begin?”

***

“I’m glad you convinced me not to poison them,” Neva said as she and Solas watched the group from their hiding spot above the bar. “Even though I swear it would only have given them mild indigestion. Maybe a little bit of vomiting if they were particularly sensitive.”

“Yes, well, the poisoning of several high ranking members of the Inquisition would be cause for concern.”

“Hm, I suppose I’ve already given Cullen more than enough white hairs as it is. You should have seen the look on his face when he stumbled upon the bodies of those Ben-Hassrath assassins lying on the battlements- Apparently Bull thought I would let Cullen know about what happened and I thought Bull would tell him.” She shrugged, the fate of her commander’s beautiful blond hair not high on her list of concerns. “But it all got sorted in the end.”

Solas snorted and replied, “I think I could hear his shouting all the way from my office-”

He paused to watch as the group below all settled with their various glasses and cups. Around the table sat Bull, Cassandra, Dorian, Sera and now Varric. On cue one of the barmaids began to pour wine, filling the cups almost up to the brim. It would be difficult for one to lift their glass without spilling.

Dorian was the first to try bringing the cup to his lips. Next to Solas, Neva was nearly vibrating with excitement, magic building in her fingers as she prepared herself. She watched intently, waiting until the very moment that the rim of the cup met Dorian’s lip. And then she flicked one of her fingers up.

The liquid in the cup exploded forward with some force, not enough to injure, but certainly enough to insult as Dorian suddenly found himself covered in wine. It dripped from his hair and his mustache, little rivulets staining his skin and shirt.

“What-” Cassandra started, trying to lower her cup, only to find that it was too late as it also exploded in her face, leaving her gasping and sputtering.

“Is this what Creepy was going on about-” Sera started in horror, only to be the next to fall victim to the ridiculous, though obviously harmless, prank.

Above them Neva and Solas worked in tandem, carefully directing small bursts of force magic from the inside of the cups. Once they had determined how they would get their revenge (no poisoning, and no bodily harm in general) they’d spent a few days perfecting their technique.

When the last person at the table had been thoroughly doused they both sat back, grinning and watching the pandemonium that their stunt had resulted in. Briefly Neva looked over at Solas, laughing a little breathlessly. 

“We do make a good team, don’t we?” She said, still giggling a little. 

He looked back at her with a smile, both sly and satisfied, on his face like a cat that had caught a particularly fat bird. 

“That we do,” he murmured and then he leaned over and he kissed her. He hadn’t meant to kiss her, or at least, he had meant it to be a short press of her lips against her. Nothing but a quick peck. But then she opened her mouth beneath his and moaned a little and he found himself lost, as he always was when this happened.

They came apart, briefly, and Neva looked up at him with wary eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I shouldn’t have kissed you.” 

“I wasn’t lying, about what I said in the closet,” she replied, even as she prepared herself to have her heart broken again.

“I know.” He said. Maybe it was his own selfishness talking, or maybe his desire, but he wondered if perhaps it was time to let her start making those mistakes, come what may.

Solas leaned forward, gathering Neva into his arms, and then he kissed her again. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
